


More Trouble Than They're Worth

by AsheTarasovich (natalieashe), Boffin1710, natalieashe



Series: Wolf Tales from the Haven [7]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alley Blow Jobs, Dancing, Flirting, Gabe is a Slut, Greg is Too Old for This Shit, Human Wolves, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 21:54:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4581507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natalieashe/pseuds/AsheTarasovich, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boffin1710/pseuds/Boffin1710, https://archiveofourown.org/users/natalieashe/pseuds/natalieashe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabe has persuaded Greg to join him and his new friend at a club.  Greg is really not comfortable.  And then of course, there's Sherlock.  The Holmes brothers really are too much trouble.</p><p>Bond characters only appear in passing</p><p>(Assumes you have read Lovelight and Ache 2)</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Trouble Than They're Worth

**Author's Note:**

> This background for this story lies in both Lovelight and Ache for Home Part 2, but it didn't fit neatly in either story, hence it stands alone. 
> 
> Takes place between chapter 3 and 4 of Lovelight and 40-something of Ache 2 (not yet posted at the time of posting this story so may contain some very mild spoilers for Ache 2 but probably not if you've read Dark Haired Boys)

Greg pushed his way through the throng, squinting against the strobe lights that turned the dancing figures into a staccato series of images leached of colour. His wolf whined at the assault on his senses, nose flaring and muscles twitching. Wolf needed to flee. Greg just needed a drink. Eventually he broke free of the bouncing crowd only to come up against the wall of bodies blockading the bar.

"Fucking hell. Where is the bloody pleasure in this?" He muttered, joining the back of the wall, shuffling forward into space as each satisfied patron squeezed out, drinks held aloft triumphantly. Pints dripped onto the heads of those still waiting, and Greg snarled when a cold dribble of watery lager slipped down the back of his neck. "This jacket is new, you git" but the boy was already gone, sucked into the bleary eyed crowd.

Finally he reached the bar and waved his tenner at one of the servers. She looked about sixteen, her club uniform t-shirt rolled and knotted below her breasts and her jeans slung so low they could fall off at any minute. All that exposed belly surely broke some health and safety rules. "Twelve quid" she yelled at him setting two bottles of imported lager on the bar. If he was going to be robbed, every single drop of the stuff was going down his throat, not down the back of another bastard's neck. Still... 

"Twelve? You're kidding me?"

"Twelve" she repeated slowly and loudly like was both deaf and simple. In this fucking place he felt both. Wolf searched for an exit, growling softly. He extracted a two pound coin from his jeans pocket and begrudgingly handed it over. She took it without further comment already listening to another hollered order.

He made a half circuit of the room, jostled with every step, until he spotted a familiar dark head over the crowd. Gabriel's black hair was slashed with bloody bright pink of all things. Not for the first time Greg wondered why the bloody fuck he had agreed to meet the boy here. They didn't date. He was technically still married for god's sake and couldn't afford to be seen out in public with his... Boyfriend? Lover? "Fuck-toy" was how Gabe jokingly referred to himself whenever the subject came up. Greg often tried to ignore the bitter undertone, kissing it away. Fucking it away. Might as well underline it in bright red pen really.

As he drew closer he saw Gabe's arm was around another dark haired young man, and the pair were talking animatedly to another couple, both blond haired and muscular. The scent of them was strong on the two dark haired boys but the rest of the room was oblivious..

"Great" he grumbled. The 'not a date' was definitely not a date if they had company. He scowled at the arm that circled the Holmes boy's waist. At least it wasn't Sherlock. Christ, he couldn't bear that. He would have had to punch the smug bastard in the face. With any luck the junkie Holmes would have forgotten all about the former junkie kid. More than Greg's life was worth to let Gabe come into contact with Sherlock now that baby Holmes was back in London. Mycroft would kill him and Gabe both.

"Greg" Gabe hugged him one armed and kissed his cheek. They had agreed no snogging in public. No public displays of affection that could ever be used as evidence of adultery. Jealousy and lust almost swept his resolve away as Gabe leaned closer and Greg smelled the younger wolf on him. Gabe grinned and whispered in his ear "I didn't think you'd come you old git. Thought you'd be home in your slippers with the wife. Crap telly and a blow job before bed."

He grimaced. Baby Holmes had flowed from under Gabe's arm and into the casual embrace of the taller of the blonds. They had no qualms about public affection. Blondie - Trevelyan - had his tongue halfway down the kid's throat while the other one looked on. Greg's nose twitched. Interesting. Trevelyan was fucking them both and Bond wasn't happy about it. Greg didn't trust either of the two men though he couldn't help but like them. Both alpha males but they weren't wolf. Trained killers with personality. It made a novel change from London Mafia wannabes.

"Come and dance with me." Gabe took his drinks and placed them on the table, dragging him by the hand towards the dance floor. The music was an incessant beat that he just grew accustomed to before it frustratingly changed. He wasn't the world's best dancer anyway but he could generally follow a regular beat for four minutes. This was... "Just bob on the spot and try not to look like you're a dad dancing at a wedding disco" Gabe yelled in his ear. "And loosen up you wanker. No one is going to know you here for fucks sake."

Gabe was pissed, Greg realised. The young tattooed man slid his arms around Greg's neck and began to writhe suggestively against him, rolling his body to touch chest, then stomach and then groin, repeating the undulation until soon he was practically rubbing himself off on Greg's hip. "Fuck's sake Gabriel, pack it in. We'll get chucked out."

"No we won't. Fuck I'm horny. Will you suck me off in the toilets? Loads of people fuck in the toilets" he giggled in Greg's ear. "I'm so fucking hard for you Greg. Here, feel." He grabbed one of his hands and pressed it to his sizeable erection. Greg snatched his hand away. "Stop it you little git. Or I'm going home."

Greg grabbed his hand and pulled him back to their drinks. Trevelyan had his hands under the Holmes kid's shirt and was gnawing on his neck. Bond looked bored and was drinking Scotch. "Alec wants a threesome but James said no" Gabe giggled, loudly. "Q is so fucking lucky. I would let them fuck me."

Greg snarled, crowding Gabe into a dim corner. The boy was a couple of inches taller than him but Greg was bulkier. "Do you ever know when to shut up? Why the fuck did you ask me here? You want my permission to fuck other people? Trying to make me jealous? What?"

"Are you jealous?" Gabe snarled back. Their wolves circled, snapping and snarling.

"Don't be stupid. I'm married. This is just..."

"Just what? Go on. Say it. I'm just a good fuck." Gabe pouted and Greg found himself melting at the boy's sulky expression.

"You are. You're a bloody good fuck. I just don't need all of this shite." He gestured around. "Brain damaging music, fucking expensive beer, room full of sweaty people. I'd rather just come round to Haven and fuck you."

"I like all this shite. I want to share it with you." Gabe looked around uneasily. He knew Greg stuck out like a sore thumb but if he just got pissed...

"You just wanted me to suck you off. I can take you home and do that without risking public indecency charges."

"But it's hot! The thrill of being caught with my dick in a copper's mouth." Gabe grinned. "Fuck I want to do that. Please Greg." Gabe was rutting gently against his thigh, hard and thick. His own cock jumped at the thought of the fantasy. He'd seen the toilets in this place. No way he was getting on his knees but fuck... 

"Come on" the smokers patio was crammed as they wove past it to the gate at the far end. Greg had noticed it earlier, couples using it to gain access to the alley beyond. Heart pounding in his chest, cock throbbing at the thought of what he was proposing to do, he slipped through the gate tugging Gabe after him. It was pitch black but their night vision could clearly make out other couples here and there. Most were kissing, groping, but as they wandered further up the alley a man fucked a girl up against the wall, her skirt around her waist and her legs wrapped around him. Her knickers dangled from one skinny ankle.

They passed on until they were just grunts in the night and then Greg pushed Gabe up against the wall. "Will this do?" He demanded in his ear, palming him roughly. 

"Fuck yes!" Gabe had his jeans unfastened before Greg could change his mind. "Will you? Please Greg."

Greg had him in hand, drawing his thumb over the head of his cock. "I don't know why the fuck I let you talk me into something like this. I'm a fucking police officer. Do you have any idea how much trouble I would be in?"

"You love it" Gabe giggled, throwing his head back, almost braining himself on the brick wall. Greg kissed him, nipping and biting at the younger man's lips. Gabe nudged his cock into Greg's fist. "Go on then."

Greg shrugged out of his jacket, laying it on the alley floor. "New jacket I'm ruining for you" he grumbled as he sank to his knees. He didn't waste time on teasing, simply taking the head of Gabe's eager cock into his mouth, sucking and slurping, jerking him, until Gabe's knees were trembling and his fingers locked around the curve of his head. The only warning Greg had that he was about to come was sharp nails digging into his scalp and a muffled keening cry. 

"That was fucking awesome!" Gabe giggled, slumped against the wall, cock hanging out. "We should do that more often." 

"You're a little git" Greg muttered, laughing as he struggled to his feet and scrubbed a hand over his mouth. Gabe tucked himself away and picked Greg's jacket off the floor for him, dusting it off and holding it out. Greg draped it over his arm. He wanted to inspect it before daring to put it back on. The alley might be drier than the toilet floor, but their cleanliness was probably on a par. "We are never doing this again. My heart can't stand it."

They headed back towards the gate, ignoring the sights and sounds in the alley. A dark shadow detached itself from the wall as they passed. "Good evening Lestrade."

Greg froze for a moment, then panic kicked in. He grabbed Gabe's arm hissing urgently "get back inside. Tell Bond he and the others need to leave. Now! Trouble is here."

"What kind of trouble?" Gabe asked nervously, trying to catch a view of the man with the vaguely familiar rich voice, but Greg was already shoving him back towards the club.

"The kind that would result in Mycroft being deadly. Go! Make sure they leave and go with them. Don't argue, just do it. I'll call you later."

Gabe scurried off into the night anxiously looking back but Greg had disappeared into the dark with the man. He hurried back through the smokers into the club, searching for Q and the agents.

Greg prayed that the little brat could follow instructions or they were all in deep shit. "Hello Sherlock. What the fuck do you want? And how long have you been lurking?"

The tall man stared after the boy, a slight frown creasing his brow. Then visibly shaking himself he turned to the detective. "I am not a voyeur, Lestrade. I waited for you to conclude your transaction before approaching you. Unlike you, I believe such business should be between the consenting adults involved."

Realising Sherlock's assumption, Lestrade grabbed the front of Sherlock's coat and slammed him against the wall. "I was not paying for it."

This close Lestrade could see the dark haired man's smirk through the gloom. It was startling how alike he and Q were. "No, I imagine you have arrangements in place to ensure you don't have to. Is he good? Perhaps I should see for myself." Sherlock's smile widened as he finally plucked an identity from the recesses of his mind. "Oh wait... He is good. I remember him now."

Greg wanted to punch him. It wasn't a surprising leap to imagine that Sherlock and Gabe had done business in the past. Gabe had been with Sherlock the night Greg had turned him. "You stay away from him. Far away. He doesn't need your shit anymore, he has his life together and doesn't need you fucking it up." Greg growled. Christ, if he took an interest in Gabe it would take no time at all for him to reacquaint himself with his supposedly dead baby brother and Mycroft would tear him to shreds for allowing it to happen.

"Oh I'm not interested in your sordid little arrangements Lestrade. I'll leave him well alone on one condition. You keep that interfering brother of mine out of my life and you persuade him to reinstate my allowance. One week. If I am not solvent by the end of seven days your wife may find me on the doorstep."

"Fine!" He spat as Sherlock shoved him off and straightened his coat. "It will be sorted." Greg sighed. Ordinarily he would call the jumped up little git's bluff but this was bigger than him or Gabe. Mycroft owed him for this. Keeping an eye on Holmes siblings was really beginning to ruin his life.


End file.
